OnDusk

  12.35am Satellites and drones pass over Canberra skies, most visible at night. The lower altitude flyers are amateurs cruising suburbs and arteries. I saw one swoosh past, in flames.  A lithium battery on fire or a tiny space craft crashing in inner North?  … Bladerunner (1982) is set in a dystopian future Los Angeles in 2019. Polluted and overcrowded, with towers of one bedroom units above and the wretched sliding around ground level in the dripping filth below. Rick (Harrison Ford) is hunting down humanoids; the 'replicants' are resisting 4 year lifespans. … For the first time, people I love and know, we hesitated – was it safe to attend any Australia Day events this year?  As it happened, there were two incidents, both terrorism: In Western Australia an explosive device set to detonate and capable of mass casualties failed to explode. In New South Wales, most news bulletins chose not to screen what was actually said from a stage to the converted. The full video...

  V.  Media Sunday night, Canberra, Australia In a clear sky, Betelgeuse arcs on my right, Jupiter is retrograde and Sirius and Procyon are bright tonight. If you were on Twitter a decade ago, you could feel when it began to decay. But there was a time before, when it hit the sweet spot. Of them all, the only digital platform I was interested in spending time on was Twitter. I spent about a year watching it. I decided what was important: Ethics & etiquette. Punctuation. I’m a writer, not a journalist. Tweetyarns would be live, and a maximum of 7 minutes between posts to optimize placement in the feed. Have a schedule, the discipline is good for me. Use my full name. … I thought about: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly 2007 (French: Le Scaphandre et le Papillon) Hunger 2008 Son of Saul 2015 (Hungarian: Saul fia) What to say when it is difficult? How to get close enough? How to write the human condition? Who am I to tell the stories? ...

  IV.  Uniapon Pronounced:  U-nye-a-pon Part of the Queensland Literary Awards, the David Unaipon Award is for an outstanding unpublished manuscript by an emerging Aboriginal and/or Torres Strait Islander writer. Established in 1988, the award is named in honor of David Unaipon (1872–1967), a Ngarrindjeri author, inventor, and activist who was the first Aboriginal writer to be published in Australia. When I won the Uniapon, I hadn’t prepared a speech.  I really wanted to win that year. The Queensland Literary Awards 2012 had been cancelled by the Qld Government. The Awards went ahead in a tidal wave of volunteers and good will. There was no prize money as per previous years.  That was the award I wanted to win, so I finished my first manuscript in a month, drove with my sister to Queensland and submitted it at Avid Reader Bookshop, West End, Brisbane with 15 minutes to spare. Winners are invited to read from their manuscript.  I jumped on and rode the spect...

  III. Vagus Vagus: Latin for "wandering", "straying", "unsettled" I always ask first, can I touch you? Self care is his passage to redemption. I introduced mon loup to the vagus nerve. How to describe a sensation someone has never felt? That he may well have associated vagus nerve resets with the gambling resort in Nevada added to the spell. I’ve controlled the wind in my ears and the tidal pulsation in my neck ever since I can remember, before I learnt it was a function of substance.  In 2026, the head tilt and stretch is a common sight. I attempted to reach the nerve via one of the points in his hand, ”It’s soothing and no-one knows you’re doing it.” Like peeing in the sea. In my case, I’m hip deep and not just ankles. … Music can also stimulate in remarkable ways. Solo, Clean Bandit, Demi Lovato is a constant ebb and flow. … Tonight’s revelation: The Killers, When You Were Young It hits just right in places, getting stronger in time with the song. The...

  II  Yarndi   He called to ask, “You angry with me cuz?” “Yes.” His voice started to rise, “Why?” “You called him a dog and a maggot. I was very clear – don’t fuck around.” He tried to come at me with a reasonable tone, “But what’s that got to do with you?” … Months earlier we’d had a chance encounter after 20 years living on opposite sides of the country. When he asked me if I knew anyone, I was cautious. I’ve known him all his life, he has the health profile to be legit. I explained, “kinda yeah, but you’re better off getting medical cannabis. Cheaper, consistent quality, home delivered. And you get a real neat card saying you’re a registered user.” I let him know, while researching medical cannabis, I’d discovered 420 discussion sites and the diverse range of views, products, customers and dealers. Anyone reading the site for long enough could work out who was a street dealer. I may have been one of the very few who’d sidled upto a stranger on a 42...

Archived 2014 I’ll admit to a fleeting desire to change places with Sharon once, but otherwise I've always thought her welcome to her ugly life. I lived in the ugliest town in the Pilbara, and if my bulimic best friend forever hadn’t knocked herself out when she stumbled weakly in her laundry, I wouldn’t have watched Sharon try to force her ugly foot into my boot. Hand tooled leather, they had gaped at the calf and rendered me knock kneed with a Cuban heel. I was never more proud of my tiny feet while I watched Sharon grunt in despair. I’d had some concern because the boots were a little too big for me, but on her, there was no way she was getting her long kangaroo foot around the ankle bend. Sharon had invited herself around, then informed me we were going to the fair. They’d set up in a vacant lot close by, and I could see the ferris wheel rotating above the ridge of company houses at the end of my street. I didn’t want to go, not at the time she bashed on my...

  I.  Caucasians The seven year old said, why is the man showing people his penis? She’d been drawn to the window in a teachable moment, to see a nearby balcony. It had been gradual in the lead up to a fully naked man standing in full view in broad daylight. Some of the others had seen penis. What his penis looked like was dismissed as irrelevant. He had fast become a digestive tract attached to a penis, there was no other indication of a higher life form. He’s tanning, we heavily sanitized. But I’m a child, she said.  It looked like more of the same, until the fleshlight developed frizzy hair of an actual person of indeterminate gender. Fellatio on his balcony before all the kids had gone to bed. Sexual positions so awkward, surely this was a financial arrangement.  I’m confident none on our side of the street reciprocated with displays of vagina. A dick pic – always unwelcome and pathetic - had evolved into live action on a tiny balcony on a narrow street heavily l...